Hermione's Story
by The Dancing Bard
Summary: What was Hermione like before she met the boys? The books/movies don't explain any of her past. Hermione tells Ron a little about herself after an accident brings up old memories. Because everyone is shaped by their past. Death of an OC. Hints of RW/HG.


**Warning/Author's Note:**_ This is AU in that we never find out about canon Hermione's life before Hogwarts, but it could possibly be considered canon in that it doesn't really disturb the original timeline. This story explores possible reasons why Hermione (usually portrayed as rule-oriented and conservative) would willingly jump into a foreign culture and abandon any previous connections to the muggle world. She never mentions problems with her parents or any muggle friends, so this provides one possible explanation. This is a Deathfic of a child OC. You have been warned. Also, I wrote this years ago before the series was finished so be kind, please._

Hermione's Story

Years later, Ron would recall how everything had begun on a relatively normal day near the end of July. The summer was almost over, and in a few weeks he and his best friends Harry and Hermione would be headed to Hogwart's for their Sixth year. Hermione had arranged to stay with the Weasley's for the rest of the summer like usual, and Ron and his Dad were on their way to pick her up. Harry would be coming to the Burrow in a week if everything went according to plan. Since Hermione's family were Muggles, their house was not connected to the Floo Network. So Ron found himself sitting trapped in a Muggle car for what seemed like hours, while his father drove them to her house. "C'mon. We're going to be late!"

Mr. Weasley just chuckled at his youngest son's impatience. "Calm down, Ron. We'll be right on time. Besides, it's only been a month or two since you last saw each other, and I know you've been exchanging owls. Why so eager?"

Ron felt his face start to blush red, and he hastily turned away to watch the passing cars with a deep and utterly contrived interest. He didn't feel like trying to explain to his Dad how much he had missed his friends. How ever since the Department of Ministries his nightmares had centered around helplessly watching Hermione writhe in pain from a curse that half-killed her. She would fall to the ground then be replaced by Harry facing the Death Eaters alone, until Sirius appeared only to fall, too. He would wake in the night sweating, but the nightmare wouldn't leave because he knew that his dream was as real as the scars that still marked his arms. Hermione and Harry had almost died, Sirius did die, and he had done nothing to save them. Now what Ron wanted more than ever was to have his two best friends beside him where he could see for himself that they were safe.

It was a relief when they pulled up in front of the Granger's house and Ron could escape from his morose thoughts. He ran up to the front door and knocked loudly. Almost instantly, the door flew open and Hermione threw her arms around his neck. "Ron! You're here!"

"Whoa," he grunted, fighting for balance. "I'm glad to see you too, 'Mione."

She immediately released him and stepped back, blushing furiously. "Sorry, um. Come on in. Hello, Mr. Weasley. Thanks for coming to pick me up."

Mr. Weasley stood in the doorway with a mock sad expression on his face. "What no hug for me?" Hermione just grinned and gave him a much more sedate hug. "You know you're always welcome at the Burrow."

Her brown eyes were filled affection and gratitude as she replied, "I know."

"Hermione, dear. Why don't you go get your bags?" Mrs. Granger asked. "Hello, Mr. Weasley it's nice to see you again."

"I'll help you carry stuff." Ron offered hurriedly, as the adults embarked on a conversation about the weather (warm) and muggle artifacts (the differences between types of batteries). The Grangers were nice enough people, but magic related conversations obviously made them uncomfortable and explanations of common Muggle objects bordered closely on magic related. Ron would just as soon avoid the embarrassment of his oblivious and over-eager father, and besides, he had never seen Hermione's room.

"It's just over here," she said, leading the way to a room near the top of the stairs. "I'm almost finished packing. I just need to throw a few things in my trunk and I'm done." The room wasn't what Ron was expecting, but somehow it seemed right for her. Pale blue and violet flowers decorated the curtains around the window and the blankets on the neatly made bed. Sunlight filled the small room reflecting off the white walls and wooden furniture. The desk in the corner was covered in neat stacks of papers, and the bookshelf had long ago been filled to overflowing.

Hermione was hurriedly throwing books and papers from the desk into a book bag beside her open trunk. Ron watched with interest as she paused briefly and looked around the room as though searching for what she was forgetting. Suddenly she crossed over to her bedstead and picked up a picture frame. Placing it gently on the top of some folded robes, she slammed the trunk shut and locked it. "Right," she announced resolutely. "Let's go."

Ron grabbed one end of the trunk while Hermione took the other and began to maneuver it through the door and down the stairs. "Who is the picture of?" He asked curiously.

Hermione would not meet his eyes as she answered, "Nobody." Ron wanted to persist in his questions, but Hermione quickly distracted him with questions about the summer homework. "So have you started working on the Potions essay for Professor Snape?"

_I'm not going to forget that easily, _Ron informed her mentally, before replying. "Of course not. Without you and Harry there's nobody for me to commiserate with."

"Ron," she sighed. "You know this means that we'll have less time for fun together. Why couldn't you at least start your work?"

"Oh, but I did start," Ron said smugly, unable to contain his grin at her expression of shock. "I wrote my name and the title at the top of the parchment."

Of course, Hermione had to start scolding him for his lack of discipline and Ron retaliated with demands that she "loosen up." Both teenagers wore scowls as they argued, but anyone who knew the two friends could tell that they were having fun in their comfortable roles of bickering. After Hermione gave her parents quick hugs, scooped up a disgruntled Crookshanks who did _not_ like cars, and helped Ron drag his father away from the cordless "fellytone", they piled into the back seat of the car. Their friendly argument had quickly degenerated into a conversation about their mutual friends and who had heard from whom. Mr. Weasley would sometimes join in from the front seat when they mentioned the children of old wizarding friends. Ron marveled at how quickly the ride home went when he had Hermione to chat and laugh with. All three had made an unspoken agreement to avoid discussing the events of that spring. Today was supposed to be a day for sun, good food, laughing and friendship.

Soon enough the conversation turned to their future careers. Ever since career advising day, the topic had become of great interest to Hermione, although Ron seemed content to wait to figure things out. "Honestly, Ron," Hermione said. "You need to have some idea about where you want to go, or how do you think you'll get there?"

The young wizard just shook his head. "I already told you. I want to be an auror with Harry. That's enough of a plan for me."

Hermione hesitated a little before replying. "Yes, but do you think your grades will be good enough for all the classes you need?" She saw his look of indignation and hastened to add, "Not that I don't think you can do it! It's just that…being an auror… I mean, they're the best, aren't they? And these past couple of years… Well, all I'm saying is it's been hard for all of us."

Ron saw her thoughts turn inward and without asking he knew that she was remembering Umbridge, the Inquisitorial Squad, the Ministry, and Sirius… With an effort he pulled free from his own memories and quickly broke the silence. He knew that Hermione only asked because she cared, and he also admitted to himself that if he were accepted as an auror it'd be a near thing. Now the perfect student on the other hand… "Hey Hermione, what about you? Going to join Harry and me in auror training?"

"What?" She asked, startled back to the present. "Oh, no, no. I couldn't do that – always fighting. Actually, I've been thinking about becoming a Healer, or maybe trying to continue with S.P.E.W…" Ron had to grin at the mention of the organization Hermione had made to help House Elves. Not that most of the elves wanted to be helped.

"Have you considered working at the Ministry?" Mr. Weasley asked from the driver's seat, looking at them in the rear-view mirror. "You'd be perfect for a position in Muggle relations since you already have so much experience.

The young witch smiled wryly at that comment. "You mean because my parents are muggles, and I only lived as a muggle for most of my life?"

Ron laughed and opened his mouth to make a smart-aleck comment, when suddenly a loud honking came blaring in front of the car. The car jumped as Mr. Weasley swerved wildly. "Look out," he yelled. Ron caught a flash of a car narrowly avoiding them, then he found himself thrown forward before the car violently jerked to a halt. Shaking his head to clear it, he saw that they had run into a tree. _Which explains the sudden stop,_ he thought grimly. "Good Lord, that was close. Is everyone alright?" Mr. Weasley asked, craning around in his seat to look back at his young passengers.

"I'm fine, Dad," Ron replied, turning to face his friend. "Hermione?" The young witch sat still, her brown eyes wide in a face turned unnaturally pale. He could see a trickle of blood from where her head must have struck the side of the car when they were tossed around, and gripped her shoulder in concern. "Hermione, you're bleeding. Are you alright?"

She turned to face him, but her eyes passed through him. "It was my fault," she said in an anguished whisper. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped bonelessly against the side of the car in a dead faint.

Ron stared down at the young woman where she lay on her camp bed in Ginny's room. His father had side-along apparated them to the Burrow almost immediately after Hermione had collapsed. Ron had wanted to take her to St. Mungo's for treatment, but his parents had said that the shock of the crash had just made her faint and she would wake up soon enough. So instead, he found himself sitting by her bed watching her sleep and trying to understand why she had fainted. _She's faced Death Eaters without fainting, _he argued to himself. _Why would a minor car crash bother her so much? And what's with the "It was my fault" business? What was her fault? Surely she didn't think she caused the crash? _No matter how many times he asked himself the questions, he didn't come up with an answer.

Suddenly her eyes flew open and she shot upright yelling, "Mandy!" Looking around wildly, she caught sight of Ron and grabbed his hand, asking, "Is everyone alright?"

"We're fine, 'Mione." Ron said reassuringly, trying to push her back to lie down again. "You're the one that fainted. You should rest some more."

Hermione just shrugged off his hands and stared intently at him. "Ron, what happened? I'm a little confused."

"A car shot out in front of Dad at an intersection and he had to swerve to avoid it. We crashed into a tree by the side of the road, and then you fainted. But first you said 'It was all your fault.' Hermione what's going on?" He asked. "And who's Mandy?"

"N-nobody," she replied unconvincingly, suddenly looking distracted. "Ron, I'm not feeling well. Would you mind giving me a few minutes alone?"

"Sure," he said, feeling a little put off by her strange behavior. When he looked back, he saw that she had curled up in a defensive posture on top of the sheets, one arm holding a franticly purring Crookshanks tight. Shaking his head, he closed the door and gave her some privacy. That night she didn't come down to dinner, and when she appeared at breakfast the next morning she was unusually quiet and subdued. When questioned by Mrs. Weasley, she denied sickness and any desire to return to her home. Instead, Ron watched with worry as she sat in Ginny's room reading or wandered aimlessly in the garden, her only company a fuzzy orange shadow. Any attempts of conversation on his part were ignored or parried by monosyllabic replies.

After three days enduring Hermione the Silent, Ron turned in desperation to his interpreter of all things female. "Hey, Ginny," he said nervously, standing in the door to her room. "Can I come in?"

Ginny eyed Ron with unconcealed suspicion. From long experience, she knew that a "talk" was coming. The two siblings loved each other fiercely and each would defend the other from any outside criticism or threat, but they held very different views of each other. Ron considered his fiercely independent younger sister to be deficient of proper protection and advice (i.e. his), and Ginny considered her older brother to be dim-witted and immature. And so, even though their talks began with the best of intentions, they often ended poorly. It was thus understandable that when Ginny answered Ron, her voice was wary and unpromising. "Sure… What's on your mind?"

Ron hastily closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed. Ginny (having correctly guessed what was coming) laid aside her magazine with a sigh and leaned back against her pillows, mentally preparing herself for a long and difficult conversation. "This is about Hermione, isn't it?

It was as if her voice had unplugged a flood of words. "Something's wrong with her. Ever since the car crash, she's been acting strange and she won't tell me why. I want to help, Gin - I feel like I should be doing something! I just don't know what." Worry made him tense and talking about Hermione felt awkward, both of which combined to form a nervous energy that made sitting in one place unbearable.

Ginny watched as her older brother jumped to his feet and began pacing restlessly around her room. "I know something's wrong, but I can't help. She's not talking to me either."

"But you could try and get her to open up, right?" Ron demanded, his long legs eating up the short distance between the walls. "I mean, you can talk to her about…you know...what if it's girl stuff?" he asked, waving his arms in male ignorance and despair of all things feminine.

But Ginny was not backing down on this one. "Ron, something happened in the crash to effect Hermione. I wasn't there, so I can't know what happened. Besides, you've been friends for almost five years. Yeah, I'm a girl so we talk about girl things together, but she trusts you. After all the things you two have gone through together, no one else here could stand a chance at this. And anyways, you owe her enough to at least try."

Not for the first time, Ron wished that Harry was here or that he could go to Harry for advice. But Harry's letters were so terse and bitter; it wouldn't be a good idea to burden him with anymore. And besides, Ron told himself, I can only deal with one friend's problems at a time. Ginny's right. Hermione needs me. I have to try.

After spending close to an hour working up his nerve, Ron went out to confront his friend. It was almost a half an hour before he found her sitting on a little tree-covered hill just beyond the bounds of the garden. "Hey," he said, sitting down near to where she sat leaning against a tree. "Mind if I join you?"

Hermione gave a non-committal shrug without looking at him. Her arms were wrapped loosely around her knees, and her mind seemed to have withdrawn miles away. Ron took a deep breath and plunged in. "Hermione, talk to me. What's bothering you?" She didn't blink, didn't give any indication that she heard, so he pressed on. "Ever since the crash, you've been quiet. It's not like you."

When she did speak, it was so quietly that at first he didn't hear. "How do you know this isn't like me?"

"Excuse me?" He asked, startled at the strange response.

Hermione turned her head slowly to stare at him, and Ron recoiled from the despairing emptiness he saw reflected in her cold brown eyes. "How do you know this isn't like me?" She demanded loudly, jumping to her feet. "You don't know me Ronald Weasley. You think you do, but you don't. I had school, friends, a life, before the Hogwarts letter came. Do you know what school I went to? Do you know if I have friends outside of school? Do you know what my friends' names were? Do you know why I study so much? Why do you think I come here so often instead of spending time at home? Did you ever even think to ask?" She yelled angrily, as Ron gaped open-mouthed. "No," she answered herself, her voice suddenly calm and cold as she stared down at where he still sat on the ground. "No, you didn't, did you?"

Without another word, she turned and started to walk away. Ron scrambled to his feet and stared after her, his mind scrambling franticly as he tried to grasp what had just happened. Somehow he knew that if he let her walk away at that moment, their friendship and anything they shared would be over. "Hermione, wait!" He called after her, running to catch up. The young woman paused and waited for him. Ron stood before his friend looking down at her bowed head, her eyes hidden from him by a screen of brown curls. "You're right," he finally said, letting the words flow unheeded. "I don't know you. But I want to. I want to know everything about you. And I really want to know what's been bothering you. You've done so much for me – more than I could ever repay. So please 'Mione, let me help you. I can't promise to fix it or make everything better, but I can listen. You're not alone in this, whatever it is. I'm here for you."

As he spoke, Ron gradually moved closer until at the end he laid his hand gently on her shoulder. He felt Hermione draw a deep shuddering breath at his touch. Then the air left her body in a sob that was choked off as she buried her face in his shoulder. Ron stroked her back soothingly, and let her cry the tears that wracked her body. After a few moments, she pulled away and started trying to wipe away the tears that streaked her cheeks. "I'm sorry…I'm getting you all wet," she said, starting to blush.

Ron felt the tips of his ears begin to redden and deliberately tried to keep things from becoming awkward and formal again. "Well, I would have offered you a hanky, but you know a shirt's larger so…"

Hermione gave a watery laugh and met his eyes with a small but determined smile. "Thanks, Ron. I really, really needed that."

"Are you ready to talk about…it," he asked.

Her smile wavered, and his heart gave a painful twinge at the sight of his strong friend so weakened by whatever gripped her. He knew that what was coming would be difficult for her, and he hated to ask it. But she needed to let it out, and by Merlin, he would be there to see her through. "Not here," she said, breaking the silence. "This is going to take awhile, and I don't want to be interrupted." Her eyes filled with pain as she added, "If I stop I won't be able to finish."

At that Ron took her hand and began to gently lead her out of the woods. It was only a short walk through the garden and up to his room, but it felt like ages. To his immense relief they encountered no one, although Ron had the nagging feeling that this did not mean that they hadn't been seen. Carefully closing and locking the door behind him, the young wizard went to sit near to where his troubled friend perched on the edge of the bed. Hermione had dried her tears, and now sat with her arms curled around her large, vibrating cat. Ron watched Crookshanks press his squashed muzzle into her shoulder as though lending the girl strength, and waited several minutes before gently asking, "Is it so hard to begin?"

Hermione let her breath out in a sigh and kept her eyes on her hands as she stroked smooth orange fur, more for her comfort then the cat. "Oh, yes. I haven't ever told anyone, and it's been so long… nearly seven years in fact. I thought I had moved on – healed, you know? – but I hadn't. I'd locked it all up, and now I have to let it out and it feels like it all happened yesterday."

"What happened Hermione?" Ron prompted her gently. "Tell me what happened seven years ago."

Without acknowledging that she had heard him, she began to speak. "Her name was Amanda Moore, but ever since I can remember I knew her as Mandy. We were inseparable, Mandy and 'Mione, the Dynamic Duo. She lived in the house behind our's, and they put a gate in the fence connecting our yards so that we'd stop climbing over. Every morning we met the bus for school together. We would talk all the way there and on the ride home. We shared all the same classes and played together at recess. After school, we would race to see who could get their homework done the quickest and be the first to the fence." Meeting Ron's eyes for the first time, she added. " I loved her like a sister."

Trying not to interrupt, he asked, "What was she like?"

He watched as her eyes glazed over and a faint smile touched her lips at fond childhood memories. "She was so energetic. She always had the craziest ideas and she always managed to convince me to help with them. One time she persuaded me that her dog should have a chance to go to school, too. Somehow, we smuggled the german shepherd into the building during recess, and everything seemed fine…until we went near the cafeteria. He smelled the food and we never stood a chance. By the time we caught him half the school had showed up to 'help.' I think it was detention for a week for that particular stunt."

Ron had to laugh at that as he pictured an earnest young bushy-haired girl explaining to her teachers that the dog deserved the chance to learn too. "Hermione! I'm shocked to hear such things from you. It's a good thing Fred and George can't hear you. You'd never live it down. Or worse yet, you might give them ideas!" He pulled a face of mock horror and silently cheered when she smiled at his efforts.

"Most of the ideas were Mandy's, although of course I always helped. She was the outgoing one. By the end of September Mandy would know everybody in the school's name, and talk with each of her classmate's at least once. I never had a lot of friends, because I didn't need them. I had her, you know? She was friends with everyone, and I was friends with her. There were about 10 of us who'd get together for tea parties, the cinema, or sleepovers. And then…"

Her voice trailed off as she remembered how it had all changed. Silently, Ron took her hand in his and gently squeezed. _I'm here for you, _he wanted to say. _You can do this. _She seemed to understand and take courage from his gesture, because she squeezed back then continued.

"I was 10 when it happened. Summer was ending and like every summer before I had spent most of it with Mandy. We were excited about starting school again because it was the last year before uppers. We spent the summer coming up with schemes to go out 'with a bang.' Two weeks before classes started we went on a car ride together. Mandy's mum drove us into London to shop for new school supplies. That night while driving back, we got into an argument. It was about something stupid – I don't even remember what any more – but I do remember that I was mad. I think she was teasing me and I got mad. I started yelling and the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. Mum 'n' Dad were there waiting for me to wake up. She was crying. I couldn't remember ever seeing Mum cry before so I got really scared. I started to panic and cry even before they told me that Mandy had died."

_I knew something bad was coming, but this! To have your best friend die next to you and at that age…_ Ron shuddered at the thought of losing either of his beloved friends. He wanted to stop the words coming from Hermione's lips, but could only stare as silent tears began to fall down her face and she continued inexorably on.

"Th-they wouldn't let me see her until the funeral. She looked…awful," Hermione said, wincing away from the pain of her own memories. "I tried to tell them that it was my fault, but they wouldn't listen. They said it wasn't me. They said the driver of the other car had been drinking at the pub. But I know!" She told Ron, her eyes blazing fiercely into his. "I know! I dis-distracted h-her Mum an'-an' the last th-thing M-m-mandy h-heard was me y-y-yelling at her!"

The last of her strength left her then and Hermione collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into her hands as she cried for the friend she had loved and lost and the girl she had been who had also died that night. Ron silently gathered the young woman into his arms, supporting her limp weight with one arm while the other hand gently stroked her back. She slowly began to calm herself as he rubbed small circles in her lower back and made soothing noises in her ear. After an immeasurable amount of time, Hermione pulled away from the embrace.

Ron carefully studied his friend as she drew herself up into a sitting position and scrubbed at her face with the heel of one palm. _She looks really tired but something's…different. I think she looks – I don't know – more centered or balanced inside_, he decided as she began to speak again, carefully avoiding his eyes.

"I changed after that. I guess anyone would have. I had never been really outgoing but I stopped socializing at all. Seeing the other girls brought up memories that I didn't want to think about, so I stopped talking to them and everyone else unless I had to. I threw myself into schoolwork so that I didn't have to think and I stayed up late studying so that I wouldn't dream. Even my house made me think of her. I welcomed the Hogwarts letter as an escape. Magic opened a new world that Mandy had no part in. I could finally build new memories without her in them, but I couldn't escape her shadow. That's why I don't get along with other girls my age. That's why I spend so much time away from home. That's why I don't like you and Harry taking some many risks. I'm not a worrywart without good reason. I know how easy it is for things to go wrong. I know how a person's life can change in a second. One decision…" She raised liquid brown eyes to meet warm blue and gazed at him intently, willing him to understand. "You and Harry are so close to me, so important. If anything were to happen to you…"

"Hermione…" Ron said, taking her hand in his. He hated to ask her, but he had to know. "This thing that's happening - with Harry and You-Know-Who – it's going to get worse. You know that, right? And Harry an' me an' my family, we're all going to be getting involved with the fighting and stuff. Hell, we're already involved! Are ya…are you going to be alright with that?"

The corner of her mouth wobbled, but her eyes remained steady and clear. "No, I'm not 'alright' and I won't be for a very long time, but… I'll deal. You and Harry are my best friends now and in some ways you're even closer to me than Mandy was. I hate the thought of you guys getting hurt so I'll be there, too." Her grip on his hand tightened as she said, "I'll be fighting with you. Nobody's going to hurt my friends. I won't let them."

Ron felt his heart ache deep inside his chest knowing that it might not be enough. Knowing that before this war ended that one or more of his family or friends would probably be dead and even with all their sacrifices, they might not win. But at that moment, gazing into Hermione's eyes, feeling her hand in his, he really felt that they had a chance to succeed. So he simply said, "I believe you."


End file.
